


The Woman Who...

by yauksiei



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of Intercourse, Sore!Sherlock, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yauksiei/pseuds/yauksiei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock tells Molly that he's just a little sore. On top of that, he's acting a little strange...er. Molly finds out the cause of his distraction when she sees his phone. Sherlock answers her questions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woman Who...

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. I'm in study hall, and I was bored XP. This is the product of Silent Hill music and boredom.
> 
> Yeah.

Molly knew something was off about Sherlock the moment she saw him walking into the lab. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but there was something just...off about him.

She discovered what it was when he moved to sit down and flinched--well, twitched is more of the word. He had a limp, and his entire body seemed the ache from something.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied tensely, adjusting his position and twitching once more.

"Did you get hurt?"

"Just...sore."

"Sore? What did you do?"

"*Nothing*, Molly. Go away." he went to his experiments, leaving Molly confused. Nevertheless, she left him alone, until a few minutes later he growled something to himself and asked her to get his phone from his coat, which he had accidentally left in the mortuary.

Molly was very confused, and a little worried, as she went to get the item requested. Sherlock never "accidentally" did *anything*. Not even on a bad day. The very thought that he would do something like that now was more than a little troubling.

She arrived at the mortuary, and reached into his coat pocket to get his phone. On pulling it out, she saw that there was a text.

'Told you I'd make you beg for mercy. Let's have dinner.'

There was another text after that.

'Good morning. Mr. Holmes. Still hurting? Let's have dinner again.'

A blush creeped up Molly's face. Who--what--?!

"Molly."

"AH!" Molly shrieked and jumped to see Sherlock standing behind her, looking peeved.

"Isn't it impolite to read someone else's messages?" he asked flatly, holding out his hand for the phone. She handed it over and watched him read the messages. Nothing showed on his face as he did. When she was certain he'd finished, she instantly demanded,

"Who is she?"

His answer took a moment. "The Woman."

"The Woman? What does that mean?"

And, in a tone that only Sherlock Holmes could perfect while communicating delicate subjects with a blunt nature, he replied, "The Woman who took my virginity. Now, I need a thumb from a body at least a week old. I'll be upstairs."

He left Molly red-faced and gaping next to the slab.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
